


Scene from an Escape

by alynwa



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 22:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: This one shot was inspired by this video:https://youtu.be/zJqDyrZfJpI





	Scene from an Escape

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot was inspired by this video:
> 
> https://youtu.be/zJqDyrZfJpI

“Are you out of your _mind?_ ”

“Perhaps, but I know what I am doing, Napoleon.  I have driven across this bridge before.  We will be fine.”

Napoleon looked at what lay before them and then to his right.  “Why can’t we take _that_ one?”

“That is an active train bridge,” Illya said patiently.  “We would have to abandon the car to walk across and then what would we do for transportation once we reached the other side?  This is Siberia; it is not like we would be able to hitch a ride.”  He reached over to place his hand on his partner’s shoulder.  “I know the Vitim River makes you nervous, Napoleon, and if there were some other way across, I would use it.”

“I know,” Napoleon replied.  He looked ahead once more and sighed.  “I can’t believe our mission was successful and I may very well drown trying to get back to New York.”  He sat up straighter and squared his shoulders.  “Okay, let’s do this, but Illya, I swear if I die I’ll kill you!”

Illya glanced sideways at his partner and then focused all his attention on the bridge.  He hadn’t lied to Napoleon; he _had_ driven across this very bridge while on a mission for the KGB, but it had been years earlier and the structure looked that many years worse for wear.  _I know he is afraid of the water and yet, he trusts me to keep him safe._   He put the car in gear and started to drive.

The bridge was very narrow; there were no more than six inches clearance on either side of the car.  The wooden boards they were riding on were laid horizontally.  Some of them appeared to be shorter than others.  “Are those boards nailed down?” the CEA asked nervously.

“Some of them are.  Don’t look at them; look at the shoreline.”

Napoleon was sitting ramrod straight in his seat with one hand pressed tightly against the ceiling above him.  “How come the farther you drive, the farther away the shoreline looks?”  If there had been anyone else in the vehicle with them, Napoleon would have died before he let them know how afraid he was, but he felt no shame or obligation to hide his true feelings from his partner.  The front wheels bounced over an uneven spot causing him to gasp.  “Why are you going so _fast_?  Slow down!”

The Russian wanted to get off the bridge and out of the open as fast as possible as there was a real possibility that THRUSH could be in pursuit, but to make Napoleon more secure, he slowed from twenty miles an hour to fifteen.  _It was just as well_ , he thought.  _This part of the bridge is the trickiest._   A quick peek in the rearview mirror made him dare to speed up slightly.  “It appears we may have company.”

Napoleon whipped his head around and saw a vehicle getting on the bridge.  “What are the odds that’s just one of the locals on his way home?”  The crack of a handgun answered his question.  “Well, unless the locals are very territorial about their piece of crap bridge, I’d say we have a bird on our tail.”  He pulled his weapon and quickly moved into the back seat.  “Don’t worry about a thing, Illya.  I’ve got this.”

Illya kept driving like he didn’t have a care in the world.  He knew one thing for certain: Napoleon with a purpose was a force of nature.  In rapid succession, he heard the CEA fire twice.  Another glance at the mirror showed the car stopped and the driver’s side door open.  “Did you shoot him?”

“Not yet.  I shot out both front tires so the car could stay straight and not fall into the water.  I think he’s trying to figure out how to get out the car without ending up in the river.  That’s what I’d be doing, anyway.  What was that?” Napoleon said when the car jolted.

“A pothole.  We are off the bridge and on a dirt road.”

“Oh, thank God,” Napoleon said as he clambered into the front seat.  “Let’s get out of here.”

     

 


End file.
